Eye Contact
by Cakedish
Summary: Amidst their packing to move to Sunnydale, Buffy and Dawn share a quiet moment.


"But it doesn't make any sense!" Dawn's voice cut through her sister's thoughts for the umpteenth time that week. She stood in the doorway of the living room, her hands thrown out in front of her in exasperation. "Why do we have to leave LA? Just because Little Miss Perfect had some fiery fun–"

"Dawn," Buffy cut in, not looking away from the box she was filling, "shut up."

"Buffy..." Joyce's voice was tired. "Dawn, your sister was expelled. We have no choice. And besides, Sunnydale's a lovely place. It's clean, and calm and smaller than Los Angeles. You'll like it. Really. Now give us a hand with packing these things. There's no way we'll get this done working on our own."

"I _like_ living in a big city. There are lots of people, and the library's huge! Plus, all my friends are here. You know where they're not? Sunnydale. And besides, it's not like that was the only high school. Just go to a new one. Easy peasy. No moving involved."

"She was expelled from the whole district, Dawn. You know that. We're lucky she's not in jail." Buffy shifted uncomfortably and momentarily squeezed her eyes shut. "Sunnydale was the closest city whose district agreed to take her. You'll make new friends fast. You're a people person. Now, please, give us a hand?"

She sighed and flounced over to the shelves, picking up a framed picture and wrapping it in bubble wrap, giving into the urge to pop a few of the bubbles. "I am not a people person. I don't know why you're always saying that, but I'm not." She shot a glare in Buffy's direction.

Buffy noticed the beginnings of tears in her sister's eyes, masked by annoyance, and felt a pang of guilt. "Uh, mom, I'm going to empty the drawers in my vanity. You know, see what I actually need to keep? So I'm going to go do that. And be..." She trailed off. "Not here," she added in a whisper, dropping the box flap she'd been absentmindedly fiddling with.

"Sure, honey." Joyce didn't meet her eyes.

Buffy left the room quietly, walking slowly down the brightly colored hall. Soon to be someone else's hall. Soon to be covered in different photos, not of her and Dawn and her mother and –she swallowed a lump in her throat– her dad. Two thirds of the way down, she turned and entered her room. They were still in the early stages of packing, so nothing much had changed. Many of her CDs had been boxed away, along with stuffed animals that weren't Mr. Gordo, who sat dutifully in the middle of her bed. But her clothes were there, and there were curtains on the windows. She closed them. She didn't want light.

She walked to her vanity, pressed against the wall and covered in hair clips and stray tubes of lip gloss. Useless, pointless, meaningless things. She saw herself in the mirror, her hair falling out of its ponytail and shadows under her eyes. She hated what she saw. She looked weak and tired, like she'd given up. But she had. She'd failed too many times. She'd failed Merrick, buried who-knew-where by the men who'd come to take him back to England with them, to their headquarters or whatever it was they'd said. She didn't remember. She'd failed her mother. And now her sister. And her dad. No. That wasn't her fault. Was it? She was forcing their lives to change, just because hers had.

She pulled open a drawer, the one right in the middle. From it, she took a cross. She stared at it, blaming it for everything that had gone wrong, hating all that the cross stood for in her life. Demons. Fire. Failure. Her bottles of holy water and stakes had all been used up in the gym, but she still had that damn cross. She sat in the middle of her bed, turning it over in her hands, staring at it, as she finally let herself cry. So many weeks of anguish, and she hadn't cried. She remembered Dawn sobbing when their dad left them. Buffy hadn't had it in her. She'd been blank. But now...

"Oh, god," she whispered through the tears. "What's wrong with me?"

"Buffy?" Dawn stood in her doorway.

"Yeah?" Buffy wiped away the tears and looked up at her sister, so young and so hurt by so many things.

Dawn chose not to comment on the crying. "You still have my pink nail polish."

"Yeah."

She rolled her eyes. "So... Gonna give it back?"

"Right. I should." She continued to sit on the bed.

"Okay, then. Guess I'll just..." Dawn crossed to the vanity, and began rummaging through the drawers, gently closing the empty middle one. Buffy watched her, trying to stop herself from crying again. "There, got it." She pulled her hand out of a drawer on the bottom right, clasping a bottle of nail polish. "I should get back to packing." She started to leave, and Buffy's face crumpled.

"Dawnie, I'm– I'm sorry."

Dawn turned to face her, looking at the cross in Buffy's hand.

"I know."

"But I am. I really am. I didn't mean to screw this up, I just– I thought I was doing the right thing, and I was, but it's never right enough. I didn't ask for all to this happen, and I guess that's no excuse, but I don't care, because I didn't, and they can't just expect me to be alright, when–"

"Buffy!" The babbling ceased. Dawn's eyes moved from the cross, meeting Buffy's own. "I _know._" They flickered back to the cross, and then back up to Buffy.

Buffy blinked, opening her mouth slightly, but not saying anything, just letting it be open. With a crooked, half smile, Dawn turned and left the room. Buffy sat for a moment, lost in thought, until a smile began to form on her own lips. She stood and walked back to her vanity. Everything would be different this time.


End file.
